Round and 'Round
by teamfreewill82
Summary: You got that James Dean, daydream, look in your eye and I got that red lip, classic, thing that you like and when we go crashing down we come back every time. {Challas}


**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**The Outsiders**_** or anything pertaining to it except my own writing and ideas.**

**A/N: This is based on when I heard the song Style by T-Swift. *smiley And since my mind is forever looking for couples to put to songs I hear, this is the end result. Thanks for reading! **

'**Round and 'Round **

The clock on the nightstand beside Cherry's bed was slowly clicking towards midnight. She did not know this, of course, because she was fast asleep.

Until, that is, something was chucked at her bedroom window. It wasn't until the third stone, however, that Cherry was woken. Once her eyes had opened she squinted into the darkness, unsure of what she was hearing.

"Cherry!" _Thwack_. "_Cherry_!" Who the _hell_ would be outside her window at this hour? But, really, she knew. And because of this, she shrugged her way out from beneath her blankets and plodded her way over to the window. She slid it open and there on the grassy ground below stood Dallas Winston.

He grinned crookedly up at her. "How's my girl?" he inquired in a way he obviously believed to be charming. Cherry caught herself before letting herself believe it too.

"Dally. What're you doin' here?" she whisper-shouted down to him.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "Came to see you, a'course. Why else?"

"I haven't seen you–_heard_ a word from you in two months, Dallas!" Cherry told him as a not so gentle reminder. "You can't just show up at my house at midnight! Are you outta your damn mind?"

"Well, I was thinkin' it'd be romantic…"

Cherry released a ragged breath out. He looked the same as ever–that white-blonde hair standing out in the darkness like a halo. A fallen angel. His cigarette-scented leather jacket draped over his shoulders, waiting to be worn by Cherry once again.

"Of course you were," she managed to say in reply to his irresistible smile. "Look, what'd you want from me tonight?"

"To see you. Thought I said that already? Come down, would you, so we can talk?"

Oh no. Cherry knew what that meant. She knew where their encounters always lead, whether she meant for it to happen or not. And right here? Open invite from the man himself.

"Dall', it's so late," Cherry tried. "Can't we talk tomorrow?"

"Cher', like you said, I ain't seen you in months. I miss you. Come on; I'll get you home in an hour." He wasn't going to leave without a fight, and she was really just too worn out to play along.

"Fine. Gimme a couple minutes." He clapped once and shook his entwined hands up to her as a sign of gratitude, backing up to his running car that had its headlights dimmed.

Cherry stared at her drawn face in the bathroom mirror. She was doing it again. Succumbing to Dallas Winston, the boy with that daydream look in his eyes and sexy as hell, dirtied white T. He was devastatingly beautiful. She loved him. And she hated him, and herself, for it.

She debated on what to wear and eventually settled on a simple skirt and sweater. Her hair was only helped by a tiny yank of a brush, her lips with a swipe of red lipstick, before she was off.

Pulling her back door open, Cherry felt dizzy. There he was. Right in front of her. Real, solid, and all Dally. He was leaning against his car, a cigarette smoldering nonchalantly from his lips as though he didn't have a care in the world. Sometimes she didn't think he really did.

But when he saw her, he removed and dropped the cigarette, moving towards her with his arms already open. He wrapped them around her and she breathed in his familiar smell.

She let out a breath she must have been holding since the last time she saw him all those weeks ago. He rested his head on her shoulder, holding her close. "Hey," he murmured against her.

"Hi."

After a second he allowed Cherry to step back, but took her hand and helped her into the car.

"How've you been?" he asked as they settled in.

"Fine. You?"

He shrugged. "Good as I can be. Missed you, Red."

Cherry rolled her green eyes with a small smile, her elbow on the open-topped car's lowered window as though it belonged there. Though, she had been in this position many times before. "What've you been up to?"

"The usual," he told her. "Nothin' keeps my attention… Except you," he added, dropping a wink.

_Sure_. Cherry's smile slipped from her lips and she couldn't respond.

Throughout the drive to Their Place (the land by the lake), Dallas continually glanced at Cherry. She refused to meet his fevered sky-blue gaze, though, and stoically kept her own on the passing scenery.

Once they had reached the lake, Dallas turned off the car and scrubbed a hand through his pale hair. He took off his coat and held it up; Cherry shook her head and, after only a second of pause, he dropped it into the backseat. Her eyes wandered to his arms, muscled and lean, and Cherry felt like slapping herself. Why did she allow herself into these situations time after time?

"So," she began, hoping she sounded at least somewhat steadfast, "heard you've been hangin' around with some other girls." She didn't own him, they'd never sworn on exclusivity, so why, then, whenever she thought of Dallas and another girl did Cherry's heart and stomach trade places?

Dallas shifted on his side of the car and looked at her. "Look, Cher'… That's true, a'right? I've been messin' around. But I keep thinkin' about you."

"I've thought of you, too," she admitted quietly. "That is, if you aren't lying."

"I don't lie, Red," Dally said. "Not to you."

"I believed that," she told him. "But you disappear… and I never know when I'll see you again. If you really needed me, you'd stay for more than a couple weeks at a time."

"I hate sittin' still, you know me, Cher'. What d'you want me to do? Just come with me, if you want me close so bad."

Cherry opened her mouth and nothing came out, so she tried again. "Dallas, don't be ridiculous."

"Why's it ridiculous? Cuz you're who you are and I'm just me?" he retorted.

She looked at him, lifting her head from her fist. "No! Of course not!" She reached for his hand and held it. "You know none of that matters to me. None of it. But what does matter is your absences, and me havin' to worry every damn time you go," she said, her voice quiet and calm, but shaking.

Dally squeezed her hand. "You know I can take care of myself."

"Then why do I feel like _I_ gotta take care of you? It kills me how bad I need you here."

Dallas looked down at their hands and Cherry pulled hers away, wiping ferociously at her wet eyes. "Just, take me home, Dallas."

"Cher'–"

"Just take me home!"

Dally shook his head and started the car, pulling backwards and out onto the road. They were silent on the long drive back to her house.

When they had turned into her driveway, Cherry remained seated for one moment before losing her nerve to look at Dallas and jumped out. Headlights blaring at her back, she made her way to the back door.

"Cherry," she heard behind her. She paused in her tracks. "You think I'm just gonna get sick of you like a pair of jeans." Cherry blinked, hard, and dropped her head. "But I'm not. I won't ever get sick of you. We're not some passing fad, Red. And we're never goin' out of style. I'll see you tomorrow, huh?"

Something was dropped onto the ground with a soft thump, but she couldn't make herself to turn around until she was sure his car was out of her street. When she had, she saw a dark heap on the asphalt.

His leather jacket.

She hurried forward to lift it off the driveway and held it to her chest, breathing in Dallas once more.

_We'll never go out of style._


End file.
